Highlands’ Forbidden Deeds

by Adamina Young

  Other than the Sinclairs, there was only one person who knew of the secret entrances: Moira. Grace, in the midst of terror, had been one of the first to point the finger, and she’d spent the past seven years hating herself for it. When the panic and terror and grief subsided, Grace knew she’d made a horrible mistake. There was no way that Moira would have done anything to betray them. She’d loved Connor and Grace and even Alec. She’d loved Grace’s parents.

  Now Moira was back, and even if Connor didn’t realize that they were a love match for the ages, Grace was going to make him see it. She didn’t normally believe in true love, and she certainly didn’t see herself as a potential wife, but Moira and Connor were meant to be together.

  “You must be Grace,” a low voice said from behind her.

  Not recognizing the voice, Grace turned and reached into the pocket of her dresses. At least, at one time, it had been a pocket, but now it was a secret opening to get to the dagger she had strapped to her thigh.

  “I must be,” she said coolly as she took in the stranger. He was tall and broad, built like many of the highlanders who surrounded her, but it wasn’t the strength that rippled off him that caught her breath. It wasn’t the thick blond mane of hair or the perfectly sculpted jaw.

  It was those eyes, darker than sin, and shimmering with an intensity that brought chills to her body. She only saw that kind of intensity when men were about to ride into battle.

  Or when they saw something they wanted very much.

  It only made her grip the hilt of her dagger harder. It was no secret that many of the men in the Sinclair clan wanted her, even many of the men in the surrounding clans, but they never wanted her. They wanted Connor and Alec Sinclair’s sister. They wanted to be close to power.

  “Yer exploits are legendary,” he said with a small twitch of his mouth. “But ye arenae what I expected. Too tiny. I am Hamish Hamilton. I am here for yer brother’s wedding.”

  Grace’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she withdrew her hand. Hamish Hamilton was a legend. There was a time when the Hamiltons were known for their petty feuds that turned into bloody battles, but Hamish came from nowhere and turned into the clan hero. There were tales that he single-handedly ended one of the feuds, and now he was to be Laird Tyree Hamilton’s heir.

  “I have so many questions for ye,” she breathed as she was filled with a strange thrill. Here was a real hero right in front of her, and it wasn’t a family member who would just brush her aside when she wanted to hear the details, no matter how bloody they were.

  Hamish cocked his head. “Do all of yer questions involve a dagger that ye have pulled from beneath yer dress?”

  She hadn’t even realized that she hadn’t released the dagger before she pulled out her hand excitedly. How embarrassing! she thought. She was training to be a warrior, and a warrior would never make this kind of mistake.

  “No, it doesnae. Sorry about that.” Reddening, she slipped her hand back into her dress to secure the dagger in her holster. All she needed was Hamish telling her brother that she had her dresses mended so she could reach a dagger. “Anyway...”

  “Is there a specific reason that ye carry a weapon around? I find it hard to believe that Connor doesnae take care of his family. Is there someone on these lands harassing ye?”

  “What? No, and I doonae need Connor to protect me. Forget about the dagger.”

  “Grace.” Hamish frowned and reached for her. When his fingers circled her forearms, her eyes widened. “There is no need to lie to me. If there is someone bothering ye, all ye have to do is tell me, and I will take care of it.”

  So not a hero. Just another man who thought that a woman couldn’t take care of herself. “First of all, if there is someone bothering me, then I will take care of it. Secondly, you may remove yer hands from me, as I havenae told ye that ye can touch me.”

  Clearly befuddled, Hamish released her and stepped back. “Grace...”

  “If ye have heard of me, then ye know that I amnae one to hide behind a man. I had heard that ye were going to be a progressive laird, but I can see that we were both misinformed. Enjoy yer stay here, future Laird Hamilton, and I suggest that while ye are on Sinclair lands, ye keep away from me.”

  His face darkened. “I was simply trying to help.”

  “No, ye are just like every other highlander that I have ever met,” she muttered. First and often the worst offenders were her brothers, who often seemed to fear that they were somehow disappointing their mother if they didn’t raise her to be a lady. It was like they didn’t remember her mother at all. And then there were the guards themselves, who patted her on the head and told her what a good job she was doing in her training. It was enough to make a woman want to scream.

  Now this stranger dared to think that she wanted his opinion?

  “Obviously not, since none have been able to take ye in hand and control ye. I had heard that ye were a little hellion.”

  A hellion? Gritting her teeth, Grace straightened and lifted her chin. It was not the first time she’d heard that nickname, and it boiled her blood. If a man had acted the way she did, they would call him motivated, a future hero, a man loyal to his colors. But her? Nay, she was a hellion. “The day I let someone like ye take me in hand is the day that Scotland bows to England.”

  And this, Grace swore to herself, is the reason why I will never marry.

  1

  One year later...

  * * *

  “‘Tis a sight to behold, is it not?” Tyree asked as he joined Hamish atop the hill, and clapped him on the back. “And it will only grow under yer leadership, of that I have no doubt.” Tyree was a large burly man with the strength of two. A smaller man would have sailed through the air at Tyree’s pride.

  Hamish was not a smaller man, though, and he took the gesture with open pleasure. He didn’t even bother to hide the smile. It truly was a sight to behold, and he wasn’t talking about the green lush hills or the sparkling river that rushed over the boulders to the large waterfall. The Hamilton clan was small but beautiful, though it was ravaged by a violent history. Large portions of the woods were stark from the fires that burned, and there was a dark energy in certain parts by the river—lands that were soaked with blood. Still, the Hamiltons persevered, and under his guidance, they would flourish.

  But today, his pride extended farther than the land he ruled. Today, it was all about the small group marching from the west under the Sinclair banner. They were the first to arrive, a day ahead of schedule, but that didn’t surprise Hamish. After all, the new lady of the Sinclair clan was Tyree’s niece, and the MacKays would be with them since the lairds were brothers. And after them would come the MacSeavers, the MacDougals, and the Armstrongs, all set to sign the peace treaty with the Hamiltons, and with Hamish as the new laird.

  It would be an exciting couple of days.

  “Aye,” Hamish said with a cold grin. “A sight, indeed.”

  “Doonae feel nervous, my boy. Ye are more than ready, and the Hamiltons are behind ye. They are ready for the peace to continue.”

  “Ye are excited to see Moira, are ye not?”

  Moira was Tyree’s niece, and there was a time when she was the nemesis of the Hamiltons—a sad state for the Hamiltons, who were once the scourge of the Highlands—but even when her immediate family hid her away, Tyree had been there for her. When he became laird, he demanded everyone treat his beloved niece fairly.

  Not everyone listened.

  “Aye. I was sorry that she didnae choose ye, but ‘tis obvious that Connor makes her happy. ‘Tis truly amazing to watch her transform in the last year. Those horrid rumors have finally been put to rest, and she and that husband certainly do love each other. Sometimes a man needs a good woman.”

  Hamish snorted. “Ye doonae need to disguise yer intent, Tyree. I know the clan wants me to marry and produce an heir. I have seen them parading their daughters in front of me.”

  “Some of them are bonnie,” the older m
an hedged. “Mac’s daughter, Mary, is vera fetching.”

  Thinking about the large bosom on the young brunette, Hamish tried not to grimace. The woman was pretty, but it was clear that there wasn’t a single intelligent thought in her head. The idea of being married to her seemed more of a punishment than a reward.

  Of course, Hamish didn’t become laird just to marry. In fact, marriage was the last thing on his mind. There were other priorities, and he wasn’t worried about securing an heir for at least another year. Marriage came with complications that he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. Moira would have been the perfect choice. She’d already been installed in the Hamilton keep and knew how to run the residence. Of course, she was hated by the people, but he wasn’t overly concerned about that. He wanted someone docile and easy.

  Which, he admitted, Mary could very well be, but he still held out.

  “My focus is on the peace treaty,” he declared, only half-lying. “And as I have only been laird for six months, I want to be more settled before I start thinking of marrying.”

  The sound of horse hooves grew even closer, and Hamish reached down and patted the neck of his stallion. Without a word, he turned his horse and raced back to the keep. One thing he’d learned about Tyree was that while the man was up in years, he was still an excellent horseman and enjoyed the challenge. It didn’t disappoint him to hear Tyree’s horse thundering behind him.

  Privately, Hamish always thought that Tyree should have stayed on as laird. The burly man was in his fifties. Until recently, he’d made his living fishing the shores of the river. He loved the land, loved the water, and despised politics, but it turned out that he had a flair for the job. He had reluctantly stepped in when his brother and nephews had passed, but he made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want the power. He was still good at bringing the Hamiltons into a more civilized age of peace, and Hamish had learned quite a bit mentoring under him.

  Tyree understood that being a laird wasn’t just about power and control but also about heart and fair judgment. So many lairds failed to realize that, and Hamish might have had other things on his mind when he vied for the position, but he wouldn’t forget that the Hamiltons had to come first.

  It did, however, mean putting aside his own revenge for the better part of six months while he established control. Today, however, was the beginning of a new path. Today he would finally be able to judge his foe and reestablish the Hamiltons as a clan to be respected.

  After getting their stallions situated, Hamish and Tyree were waiting at the entrance of the keep. He was proud to see that his men had followed protocol and sent some to escort the Sinclairs and MacKays through the gate. Moira had a huge smile on her face as she caught sight of Tyree, and the uncle was already stepping forward to greet her. The lass was the apple of his eye even when many people thought the worst of her.

  Even though Hamish had vied for her hand in marriage after he was named heir, it didn’t surprise him that she had turned him down nor did it hurt him now to see her with another man. Although beautiful and fair in temperament, Moira had never stirred his blood, and he’d asked for her hand almost certain that she would not marry him. No, it was clear from the moment he had met her that she had plans that didn’t include the clan who had turned against her when she needed them the most.

  Her marriage to Connor Sinclair did help strengthen the peace between the two clans, and the Sinclairs were among the most powerful in the Highlands. They didn’t marry for politics, but Hamish was happy that it had worked out in his favor.

  Next to Moira rode two other women. Cora MacKay, whom he had never met, was Alec MacKay’s—formally Alec Sinclair’s—wife. She was English and Scottish by birth and raised in England, but he had heard that the MacKays no longer held it against her. It was an example of a political marriage that turned into a love match.

  Hamish had known her father many years ago and owed him a great deal for his own mentorship when Hamish was without a home, and when he studied Cora, he could see a great deal of her father in her. When he got a chance, he would take the time to learn more about the daughter of the man he admired.

  Alec, who rode on the other side of Cora, looked a great deal like Connor. Hamish was told the two dark-haired men resembled their father down to their strong jawlines and green eyes. They were both strong leaders, known for their fair hand and strength in power, but when it came to the younger woman riding between Cora and Moira, in looks they were like night and day.

  Grace Sinclair, the other woman riding next to Moira, was still known as the hellion of the Sinclairs. Where her brothers were large and fair, she was small and fiery. Her red hair swung over her shoulder in a thick braid, and the tendrils were already coming loose, no doubt because she hadn’t been able to sit still while her maid had been working on it. She was a vision in green, and the determination and fierceness in her expression belied her small stature.

  Hamish couldn’t help but grin to himself when he remembered their first and only meeting. When Moira had turned him down, he felt it was only his duty to learn as much about Connor Sinclair as possible. He didn’t know what to think when he first heard that the formidable MacKay and Sinclair lairds had a hellion for a sister only to find that the woman lived up to her reputation. There were whispers that she had convinced some of her men to train her with a sword and a bow and arrow even though Connor tried desperately to raise her to be a lady.

  The woman confounded Hamish, and he didn’t like the idea that there was someone he couldn’t figure out. He survived by being able to judge people immediately.

  “Greetings,” Hamish said as the two brothers dismounted from their stallions. He waited for them to help their wives down and stepped out to help Grace down. With narrow eyes, she brushed aside his hand and hopped down herself.

  Obviously, she had remembered their first meeting very well.

  “Lady Grace,” he murmured.

  “Laird Hamilton,” she replied frostily.

  “Uncle Tyree!” Not waiting for pleasantries, Moira threw herself at her uncle, who hugged her with gusto. Connor and Alec just laughed as they greeted him and Hamish heartily. Alec introduced Cora, who curtsied sweetly, English through and through.

  “Ye are the first to arrive, which will give us some time to catch up. Alec, ‘twill be my pleasure to show ye my keep as I doonae believe ye have been here before,” Hamish said.

  “Nay. There was a time when it was dangerous to be on Hamilton lands,” Alec teased, referring to their constant feuds. “But Moira’s family is my family.”

  “Aye, and those days are behind us, thanks to Tyree’s short rule. I intend to follow in his footsteps, but I also look forward to learning from ye two as well. Come.” Beckoning the guards to open the doors, he strode through and waited as they followed.

  Grace was the last to arrive, and she steadfastly avoided looking straight at him. Satisfaction swelled inside of him. Her annoyance and need to ignore him could only mean one thing.

  Smoothly, he caught her arm and slowed her pace. “Lady Grace, ‘tis lovely to see ye again. How was yer journey?”

  “‘Twas fine until a few minutes ago,” she said sweetly. “Did ye know, Laird Hamish, that just two weeks ago, I was able to assist our lovely animal doctor in helping one of my favorite mares give birth? There were some complications, and I was able to reach up and—”

  For the love all things holy. “I see that some things have not changed,” he interrupted with a trace of amusement.

  “Aye. Some things have not changed.” She glared at him bitterly until she turned and followed her brothers with a certain indignant sway of her hips.

  Indeed, things had not changed. The fire was still there, and it was a complication that he did not need.

  2

  The moon had been up for several hours, but Grace was far from ready to sleep. This was a mistake. The whole bloody trip. Pacing back and forth, Grace fumed. She’d told Connor that under no circumstances was s
he coming, and yet here she was, and seeing Hamish Hamilton was as bad as she remembered. Of course, he was as arrogant as ever. More so. Being a laird had given him a sense of power, and now he thought he could control her. Well, he would soon learn that she bowed to no one. Between Connor and Alec, she was used to ego-driven men of power, and she was not about to cow to the likes of Hamish Hamilton.

  Her skirts were tangling around her legs, and she pulled at her buttons in frustration. Highland soldiers didn’t have to fume in skirts. It was embarrassing to trip over one’s own clothing.

  She had a maid. Connor insisted on her having one, but Grace didn’t need help getting dressed and undressed, and she certainly didn’t need some spy racing to tell Connor what she was doing in her chambers. Stripping down to her shift, she dropped to her knees and pulled out the bag she’d stashed under there earlier. Grinning, she pulled out a pair of trousers.

  Connor had confiscated most of her trousers, but she had a dealer that he didn’t know anything about. Yes, the groomsman’s wife was constantly making her a pair that fit her perfectly, and all she had to do was make sure that the groom stayed sober every Saturday evening because his wife wanted another child, and apparently, alcohol hindered that process.

  In any case, no matter how many times Connor took away her trousers, Grace always had another pair waiting for her, and sneaking in some for this trip wasn’t difficult at all.

  One good thing about being here was that there were fewer eyes on her. After a quick change, she tucked her hair under the cap and checked her reflection in the looking mirror. It was so much easier when she was younger to pass as a lad. Now her hips and bosom were developed. Her round face had thinned, and her cheekbones and lips more pronounced.

  It wouldn’t matter, she told herself. As long as she kept her head down, no one could pay any attention to her. Feeling better already, she opened the door and stuck her head out.